


Birds, Bats, and Bugs

by The_Devil_In_The_Details_666



Series: All The Batfam BS [94]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: 4+1 Things, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Kid Damian Wayne, Kid Dick Grayson, Kid Jason Todd, Kid Tim Drake, Sick Bruce Wayne, Sick Damian Wayne, Sick Dick Grayson, Sick Jason Todd, Sick Tim Drake, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devil_In_The_Details_666/pseuds/The_Devil_In_The_Details_666
Summary: Part of having kids is taking care of sick kids.(OR: Four times Bruce took care of his sick kids and one time his kids took care of their sick dad.)
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: All The Batfam BS [94]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514906
Comments: 28
Kudos: 284





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by someone commenting on one of my old stories that the world needs more fluffy dad Bruce content. Ask and ye shall receive.
> 
> I’ll be posting a chapter of this story a night leading up to my birthday on March 6th, because validation and flattery from strangers on the internet for stories I wrote is honestly the best birthday gift I could give myself!
> 
> My Tumblr is The-Devil-In-The-Details-666 if anyone wants to come say hello! I love hearing from y'all.

Bruce was sitting in a board meeting, brain melting out of his ears from boredom, when someone’s phone began ringing. Bruce perked up slightly, wondering who was about to get yelled at for not turning their phone off, then belatedly realized that everyone was looking at _him_. Bruce gave a sunny “Brucie Wayne” smile, then quickly excused himself, stepping out of the conference room and glancing at the caller ID long enough to see that it was from Gotham Academy before he answered, greeting, “You’ve reached Bruce Wayne.”

“Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. I’m Tracy Lockwood, the nurse at Gotham Acad-”

Bruce felt his heart rate spike with panic and he blurted, “Is Dick okay?”

There was a beat of startled silence following his interruption, just long enough that Bruce felt guilty for it, before Ms. Lockwood answered, “He seems to have come down with something. He currently has a fever, cough, and runny nose and has complained of a headache, sore throat, and nausea. Would it be possible for someone to pick him up?”

Bruce was already heading down the stairs as he answered, “Of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Bruce entered the front office of Gotham Academy and was escorted back to the nurse’s office, where Dick was curled up on one of the little cots, head pillowed on his arm. He looked miserable, shivering under the thin blanket draped over him with his nose rubbed raw, but he perked up slightly when he spotted Bruce, lifting his head and rasping, “Hey.” 

Bruce ran his hand over the top of Dick’s head, smiling when Dick pushed his head into Bruce’s palm like a cat, then shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over Dick, who curled into it and flopped his head back down onto his arm. A blonde woman, presumably Ms. Lockwood, approached and greeted, “Mr. Wayne? I’m Tracy Lockwood.”

Bruce nodded in greeting and Ms. Lockwood gave Dick a sympathetic look, then stated, “I suspect he likely has the flu, since it’s been going around the school for the last couple weeks.”

She gave him a quick rundown of the symptoms Dick had mentioned, then Bruce was gathering Dick in his arms and slinging Dick’s backpack over his shoulder. Dick snuggled into Bruce’s arms with a soft noise, setting his head on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce petted his hair as he carried Dick out to the car and got him buckled in, tucking his jacket more securely around Dick when Dick whined at the loss of his warmth. Then they were headed home, where Bruce and Dick both changed into comfy clothes. Then they settled in Bruce’s bed, a small mountain of pillows at their backs and Dick snuggled against Bruce’s side, his head on Bruce’s chest as he dozed and watched TV. Bruce petted Dick’s hair gently and, as he slipped towards full sleep, Dick nestled closer and mumbled, “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dick.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jason had been living with Bruce for just over a year when Bruce stumbled across him laying on the bench in the locker room of the Batcave, asleep, half-costumed, and feverish. And so, after having a tiny panic attack because _his son_ was _unconscious on the floor_ , Bruce made quick work of getting Jason tucked into a bed in the medbay. Jason grumbled sleepily as Bruce carefully removed his mask, then cracked open an eye to peer at Bruce and mumbled, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Bruce smoothed Jason’s curls away from his eyes, resting a palm against Jason’s forehead and smiling at the way Jason pushed his head into it with a soft, pleased noise, then answered, “You’re running a fever, Jaylad.”

Jason huffed and started to sit up, mumbling, “‘M fine. I can still patrol.”

“Nope. Lay back down. You’re not going out while sick.”

Jason huffed, flopping back onto the bed, and stated, “‘M not a baby, I can patrol. ‘S jus’ a fever.”

Bruce stroked his hand through Jason’s hair, gently combing the knots out of it, and Jason leaned into the touch in the same way as a different black-haired, blue-eyed boy that Bruce had raised as Bruce answered, “I know you’re not a baby, Jaylad, but it’s my job to keep Robin safe, which means no patrol while you’re sick or injured. Trust me, I’ve learned from experience that it’s better to take a couple nights off to rest up and get better than go out while sick and end up getting a severe injury that benches you for weeks or even months.”

Jason huffed, but rolled onto his side and mumbled, “Gotta keep you safe.”

Bruce smiled slightly, then suggested, “Tell you what, kiddo. You and I are gonna both change into our pajamas, I’ll ask Alfred to make us a pot of that tea you like, and we can go upstairs and watch the new Pride and Prejudice film. You can tell me about which parts they did well and which parts they got wrong.”

Jason blinked, then smiled slightly and nodded, allowing Bruce to help him up and out of the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, Bruce was stretched out on the big, soft pullout couch in the den, Jason cuddled against his side with a mug of tea and a bowl of grapes. Jason’s favorite red blanket was tucked around them and Jason’s head was leaned against Bruce’s shoulder, his blinks getting longer and slower as the movie played. Bruce had his arm around Jason’s shoulders, gently stroking Jason’s hair, and he smiled as Jason’s chin started to dip, asking softly, “Hey, Jaylad, you ready to head up to bed?”

Jason grumbled, snuggling closer to Bruce, and protested, “‘M not sleepy. Watchin’ a movie.”

His protest was undercut by the fact that his eyes had fallen closed and by the way that his words were slurring with sleepiness, but Bruce elected not to comment, instead rescuing the mostly empty mug from Jason’s slackening grip before it fell and tucking Jason closer, resigning himself to spending the night on the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this one ended up being way longer than I anticipated. Oops. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

When Bruce entered Tim’s room to wake him up for school, he found a bed that had been stripped of all its blankets and pillows and, most urgently, that was empty of the small black-haired, blue-eyed boy who was supposed to be sleeping there. Before Bruce could work himself into a panic because _where was Tim, he couldn’t lose another son, he needed to find Tim_ , however, there was a tiny, kittenish sneeze from the enormous armoire against the wall and Bruce spotted the corner of a familiar fleece blanket sticking out from under the armoire door. Bruce blinked in surprise, then, after a moment of trying to process, he crossed the room and tapped on the armoire door, keeping his voice as calm and level as he could as he asked, “Tim?”

There was a soft whine from inside the armoire, then the door was pushed open a crack and a sleepy-looking blue eye appeared. Bruce stared at Tim, who stared back, and Bruce finally crouched down to be closer to Tim’s level, asking, “What are you doing in the armoire, Tim?”

Tim blinked, staring at Bruce silently for several seconds before he seemed to realize that he had been asked a question and, voice hoarse and raspy, answered, “Comfy.”

“I… see. Can you come on out? You’ve got school in an hour and you still need to eat breakfast.”

Tim blinked again, then the armoire door swung open a little further and Tim spilled out alongside a tidal wave of what appeared to be every blanket and pillow from his bed, Dick’s bed, and at least two guest rooms. Bruce managed to catch Tim before he cracked his skull on the floor and Tim blinked up at him, the improved lighting allowing Bruce to see how bad Tim actually looked. He was sweaty, his skin unusually hot under Bruce’s hand as Bruce smoothed his hair out of his face, and he looked pale and washed out, making the dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and the fever-flush of his cheeks stand out in sharp contrast. He shivered, clearly not pleased at having been forced out of his nest, and Bruce scooped him up, cradling Tim in his arms and stating, “You should’ve said you were sick, Tim. I would have let you go back to sleep.”

Tim stared blankly at Bruce, like he couldn’t _fathom_ the idea, and Bruce pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead, then suggested, “I’ll call you in sick from school and we can move all these blankets and stuff over to your bed so you can sleep, okay?”

Tim pouted, twisting to look at the bed with the kind of expression usually reserved for brussel sprouts and his P.E. class, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice as he asked, “Is there something wrong with the bed, Tim?”

Tim hesitated, like he thought there was a wrong answer, and finally shifted to hide his face in Bruce’s shoulder, mumbling something that was thoroughly muffled by Bruce’s shirt. Bruce petted Tim’s hair, then gently stated, “I didn’t quite catch that, Tim.”

He felt Tim sigh, then Tim pulled back from his shoulder ever so slightly and whispered, “It’s not _safe_.”

“It’s not… safe?”

Tim squirmed, then mumbled, “It doesn’t feel safe. It’s too- too- too _open_.”

Bruce blinked, opening and closing his mouth a few times, before checking, “So you want something smaller, more enclosed?”

Tim nodded, then mumbled, “I don’t feel so alone in smaller spaces.”

And _wow_ , that hit Bruce right in the heartstrings, reminding him of hiding under his bed the first time he got sick after his parents died because he couldn’t bear to be alone in his bed. Bruce carded his fingers through Tim’s hair, earning a soft, sleepy sigh, then suggested, “How about we move to the closet in my room? It’s a little bigger, but there’ll be room for both of us and you won’t have to deal with all your blankets and everything falling out of place if you want to use the bathroom or get some water.”

Tim looked heartbreakingly surprised by the offer and, after a moment of nibbling at his chapped lip, Tim squeaked, “You don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’ll even grab the comforter from my bed, if you want it.”

Tim practically lit up, nodding, and Bruce pressed another kiss to his forehead, stating, “Then it’s settled.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forty-five minutes later, Tim was carefully organizing the pillows and blankets to his satisfaction inside Bruce’s walk-in closet. Bruce had moved the mattress from one of the guest rooms, a full-size that just barely fit, onto the closet floor before settling Tim and his hoard of bedding in the closet and stepping out to call Gotham Academy and let them know that Tim wasn’t going to be there. Then, after quickly checking in with Tim, he headed down to the kitchen to let Alfred know and ended up loaded down with a tray of lemon tea with extra honey, several bottles of water, some medicine, a bowl of Tim’s favorite strawberry oatmeal, a few pieces of toast with cheese, and an empty bucket, just in case Tim’s stomach disagreed with food. He found Tim thoroughly ensconced in a nest of blankets and pillows, looking mostly asleep. Bruce couldn’t help his smile as he set the tray down and Tim perked up, taking the mug when Bruce offered it and giving a soft, pleased noise at the tea as he took a sip. Bruce cajoled him into taking his meds and eating half the oatmeal and a piece of toast with the cheese from two others on it, then set the tray outside the closet and closed the closet door, a small Batman nightlight Bruce had scrounged up from Dick’s old things the only source of light. Tim snuggled up against Bruce’s chest, both of them wrapped up in Bruce’s comforter, and Bruce carded his fingers through Tim’s hair, asking softly, “Want me to turn the light off?”

Bruce could feel Tim nod against his shoulder and he reached out, just barely able to flick the light off without jostling Tim, who was almost entirely asleep by the time Bruce settled again. Bruce tucked Tim closer, then settled in as Tim drifted asleep with his head on Bruce’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim has always struck me as being the sort of person who wants to curl up and nap in small, enclosed spaces, like laundry baskets or closets. Or maybe I'm just projecting my own love of closet nests onto Tim because I, too, am a semi-paranoid coffee goblin with a deep love of photography and a questionable sense of self-preservation. Who knows? But yeah, the idea of Tim just stuffing the blankets from four separate bedrooms into his wardrobe and then sleeping in it while sick is adorable and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


	4. Chapter 4

Damian looked like a wreck when he entered the kitchen. Sure, his hair was perfectly styled and his uniform was crisp and regulation-neat, but even the most perfectly starched shirt couldn’t hide the way Damian swayed on his feet as he entered. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, his nose was rubbed raw, and Bruce could hear the way his breathing rattled as he sank into his usual chair beside Bruce. Bruce frowned slightly and Damian picked up his mug of tea, taking a long drink from it before he greeted, “Good morning, Father.”

His voice was scratchy and hoarse in a way that made Bruce want to clear his own throat and, before his brain had even processed the movement, Bruce set the back of his hand against Damian’s forehead to gauge his temperature. Damian jolted back, startled, and Bruce frowned deeper, stating, “You’re burning up.”

Damian straightened up, looking vaguely offended, and replied, “It is nothing.”

“You’re not going to school with a fever, Damian.”

“Mother has trained me to work through illness.”

Bruce forced himself not to visibly react to that, instead making a mental note to send Talia and Ra’s something unpleasant, then replied, “I’m sure she has and I’m certain that you  _ could _ work through it, but you could be contagious and get other students sick.”

Damian paused in eating his tofu bacon, then, after a long moment, answered, “I see.”

“And also, just because you  _ can  _ work through an illness doesn’t mean you should. It’s better to take a break and recover instead of working through it and making yourself sicker.”

Damian eyed Bruce suspiciously, but, when Bruce told him to go change into something comfortable after he’d finished breakfast, he obediently went upstairs and returned in one of his favored sweaters and a pair of soft black lounge pants. Bruce called Gotham Academy while Damian was changing, then, once Damian had returned to the dining room, he gently led Damian to the living room and bundled his youngest son up in blankets, tucking him against his side as he flipped channels to find a nature documentary. Damian held himself tense, trying to maintain perfect posture, but, as the minutes ticked by and the soothing voice of the narrator talked about wolves, he slowly relaxed against Bruce’s side, his head coming to rest heavily against Bruce’s ribs. Bruce gently carded his fingers through Damian’s hair, making Damian’s eyelids flutter closed, and Damian was soon asleep against Bruce’s side, his breaths slow and steady. He nestled closer to Bruce in his sleep, shifting to tuck himself further under Bruce’s arm, and Bruce couldn’t help his smile as he kissed Damian’s forehead, murmuring, “Sleep well, Damian.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce woke up and immediately made a mental note to have a memo sent out to Wayne Enterprise employees about taking time off when they were sick. He felt like he had swallowed glass and his head was pounding like a drum as he shivered under his blankets, feeling like he’d just lost a fight with Mr. Freeze. Staring up at his ceiling, Bruce wondered if getting up and being a person was worth it. Just as he decided that it really, _really_ wasn’t, though, his bedroom door swung open and a black-haired blur leapt onto the bed, chirping, “Morning, B! You ready to go to the movies with us?”

Bruce blinked at Dick, who had sprawled out across the Alaskan king mattress and managed to take up more space than really seemed possible considering his size, then rasped, “Rain check?”

Dick frowned, then leaned forward to put his hand on Bruce’s forehead and answered, “I think that’s for the best. You’re burning up, B.”

Bruce gave a small, apologetic smile and Dick rolled off the bed in a motion that somehow managed to look both impossibly graceful and unbelievably clumsy, popping to his feet and stating, “I’ll let everyone know that you’re not feeling good and grab some medicine and stuff for you.”

“Thank you. Sorry for-”

He was cut off by Dick gently smacking his ankle and scolding, “No apologies. It’s not your fault you got sick.”

Then Dick was bouncing out of the room before Bruce could argue. Bruce slumped back into his blankets and time became hazy, slipping by him until there was suddenly a loud yelp and a small body was dropped onto the mattress beside Bruce. Dick followed Damian moments later, squishing Damian up against Bruce’s side, and, at Bruce’s confused look, announced, “Turns out that Baby Bat hasn’t seen _any_ of the Star Fighter series! So we’re gonna marathon them so that he actually has some idea of what’s going on when we go to see Star Fighter 6 once you’re feeling better.”

Bruce smiled, tucking his oldest and youngest sons close to his side, and Damian stated, “I suspect Grayson is simply searching for an excuse for ‘family bonding time’ so that he could have physical affection without fear of retaliation.”

“You have no evidence, Baby Bat, and therefore cannot prove a thing. Besides, everyone knows that cuddles have medicinal properties! There’s actual studies and stuff on it!”

Bruce resisted the urge to laugh, having heard that argument so many times over the years that it was practically routine, and rasped, “Where did you lose your brothers?”

“Well, Jason kicked me out of the kitchen while I was trying to make you tea, so he’s presumably doing that, and Tim said something about a nest? I dunno, he started doing his little ‘mad scientist’ mumbling and I decided it was better for my health if I just didn’t ask.”

Bruce laughed a little and began a mental countdown timer to Tim arriving with every blanket and pillow he could find. Dick busied himself getting the DVD player set up with the first 5 Star Fighter movies, then returned to the bed just as Tim arrived, loaded down with what appeared to be every blanket he could find in the Manor and several beds’ worth of pillows. He dumped them on the bed and together, he and Dick had soon swamped Bruce and Damian in bedding. Then Tim was slithering into the blankets opposite Damian and snuggling against Bruce’s side, stating, “Dick said we were marathoning the Star Fighter movies while you were sick.”

“So I've been told.”

Dick flipped through the movie menu, starting the movie so he could fast-forward through the previews while they waited for Jason, then paused it and clambered back into the bed, cuddling up beside Damian and flopping his legs across Bruce’s shins. Bruce tucked his sons closer, then looked up as Jason entered, a tray in his hands. He set it on the bedside table, then shoved a mug of tea and a paper cup of pills into Bruce’s hands, ordering, “Drink up, then I have oatmeal for you.”

Bruce smiled, obediently taking the pills and washing them down with the tea, then used the edge of the mug to hide his smile as Jason poked Tim until he could settle on Tim’s other side and climb under the blankets. Dick unpaused the movie and Bruce drank his tea and ate his oatmeal, smiling to himself as he wondered just what he had done to deserve such amazing sons.


End file.
